Star Trek Surprise: A Private Little War
by Frontovik
Summary: Book One. Fearing the inevitability of war with the Klingons, Captain Pavlik seeks out his own command but as a result is drawn into a very different kind of fight. One over the very soul of the Federation, where he can't be sure whom to trust.
1. Chapter I

**_Star Trek: Surprise _**

**Book One: ****A Private Little War**

_Historian's Note: The events of this book begin sequentially from Stardate 56732.8, or September 25, 2379_

Chapter I

She has been wearing the same style of uniform about six years now and she still felt uncomfortable in it. It wasn't a matter of tailoring. Oh no, in that regard, Starfleet uniforms were the most well-fitted and ergonomic in the Alpha Quadrant. She just never felt comfortable looking like a soldier.

The new uniforms had always carried a darker tone to Kristen Ferris. Perhaps that had something to do with the Second Borg Invasion, which begun only days after the new uniforms were instituted fleet-wide. Or perhaps it was the two years of the devastating Dominion War that shortly followed. Perhaps it was simply a matter of the dullness of grey and black. Kristen didn't know, and wasn't particularly keen on figuring it out. She just wished Starfleet's figurative Department of Change would get off its sorry rump and design a new, more colourful uniform. One better suited for this new era of peace.

She didn't think it particularly likely, however. The epic scale of loss and the fear induced by the Dominion War had shaken Starfleet from its inertia, starting a new age of thinly-veiled militarism within the Federation's star navy. An organization dominated by scientists, engineers and philosophers only a decade before was largely replaced by a hierarchy of tacticians, quartermasters and soldiers. It was men and women like these who had distinguished themselves in the war and were now reaping the benefits of it.

For mild-mannered Kristen Ferris, a woman who joined Starfleet so that she could build state-of-the-art starships, and many other engineers and scientists in the fleet, these changes were as noticeable as they were distressing. Officers with more knowledge about the proper way to turn a flank than how to optimize efficiency of a class III deuterium-shielded graviton wake stabilizer were now commonplace in the staff at Starfleet Engineering, Starfleet Science and Starfleet Research and it was a constant source of frustration for the lieutenant.

That's why she was looking forward to the meeting she was on her way to that morning. Her mentor and supervisor, Felix Pavlik, was to meet with the lead designers on Starfleet's Transwarp Development Team. There seemed to be some interest in bringing him on as a senior advisor and she would likely be able to follow him in a junior position, seeing as how she had become his right hand on _Project Pathways_ over the last few months.

The Transwarp Project was one of the few left in Starfleet Engineering that still got a great deal of leeway from Command. It was one of Starfleet's longest-running and ambitious projects and its team members carried a great deal of respect in the scientific community at large.

She turned a corner in one of the wide hallways of the fourth floor of Starfleet Engineering to find several officers in engineering gold standing outside of Conference Room B, the designated location of the meeting. Kristen stopped short of the crowd and paused, for the group of engineers was blocking the doorway. A middle-aged Tellarite eyed her up and down but didn't say anything, he just grunted at a balding human male and gestured slightly with his snout at her.

"What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" the man asked politely, but Kristen could tell the man was irritated from the look in his eyes.

"I'm here to sit in on the meeting," she told the man evenly, her clever brown eyes wide open and trying to get a read on the situation in front of her. "I'm with Captain Pavlik."

The volume of the Tellarite's snort caused Kristen to jump in surprise. She couldn't keep her jaw from dropping a little as she looked at the swine-like humanoid.

"Pavlik, that arrogant worm," he grumbled as he turned away from Kristen and the others. "Thinks he's too good to speak to us!"

"Pardon me, sir, but I don't think that's–"

"I'm surprised he didn't tell you," the human spoke up over the grumbling of his colleague. "He called off the meeting only a few minutes ago."

The Tellarite snorted again and stomped off to the north.

"Gral, take it easy," an Andorian _chan_ called out as he followed the Tellarite down the hall. "Perhaps it really was a family emergency considering he didn't tell have a chance to tell his assistant."

"Wait, what do his mean 'really was'?" Kristen asked the human, whose rank pips indicated his rank of lieutenant commander.

The engineer paused for a second and pursed his lips. "It's a long story. But, we've had a bit of a falling out a few years ago, before the wars. You must know how he can get."

"Yes, sir," Kristen replied, even though she didn't really figure what he meant. Captain Pavlik was an agreeable man. She, and all of her teammates, thought highly of him. It was unusual for him to cancel a meeting on short notice. In the almost three years she worked with him, he never once had a family emergency. In fact, she wasn't sure what familial relations, if any, he had on Earth. He vacationed to Alpha Centauri every year, so she just assumed his roots were there.

"It's a shame if we don't get a chance to reschedule," the man continued. "We are getting close, and some of the things he's been publishing from Starfleet Research seem to be up our alley. Can you please tell him that Captain Gral is very interested in his work and would like very much to set up another meeting?"

"Can do, sir," Kristen replied with a polite smile. Not feeling a particular need to ask to be dismissed, she simply nodded and headed back the way she came.

Once she was back outside in sunny San Francisco and a few paces from the main entrance of the sprawling Starfleet Engineering Building, she hit her communicator.

"Ferris to Captain Pavlik," she called as she walked east, back towards the Starfleet Research Complex. She didn't get a response, which was when it occurred to her that maybe Gral was onto something.

She cut the channel to Pavlik and instead established a link to her office computer in the SRC. She commanded it to interface with the Global Communication Network and triangulate Pavlik's combadge location. The computer gave her latitude and longitude of approximately 45°25′15″N 75°41′24″W, which would be the city of Ottawa, Canada. More specifically, he was sitting on a patio for a bistro overlooking the Rideau Canal. The nearest transporter station was a couple of blocks away, near the seat of the old Canadian government.

Kristen immediately went to the transporter hub located just off the main lobby of the SRC and was whisked across to the country to the heart of the former northern nation. As she left the station, across the road she saw what the locals called the "Eternal Flame" and somewhat further behind it, the Canadian Parliament Buildings. She hung a right and strode off to Vanier Bistro.

A heavy sigh passed through his lips the same time his hand combed through his shaggy brown hair. With his other hand, he raised a cup of coffee to his lips and sipped it tentatively. The cool fall wind had done its intended job and made the hot beverage drinkable.

"No," he said after a short gulp. "Just no."  
"Oh come on!" the tall, pretty brunette sitting across the table exclaimed. She slapped her left hand on the table for emphasis as she held her cup in her right. "I was the one who set you two up, but you don't tell me anything. How is that fair?"

"Sis, this is a lesson I don't suppose people who live on a paradise like Earth always learn, so allow me: life isn't fair."

His sister frowned at him for a second, then slowly lowered her cup and placed it on the table. "It's been a year–"

"Eight months," he corrected.

"Whatever. My point is that you're at the age where–"

"Jesus Christ, we are _not_ going there," he interrupted again, rolling his eyes his hands now fiddling with his cuffs. His hazel eyes stared intently at his younger sibling. It might have been intimidating, had they not been so close. "I'm only thirty seven. She's a full ten years younger than me. There's absolutely no rush."

"Fair enough, I'll drop it."

The brother grinned. "Good. Besides, you know that I'm looking for doing another tour off-world."

That comment caused the younger sister to raise an eyebrow as a surprising question occurred to her. "Does she?"

The brother paled at the question. And this time, it was the sister's turn to interrupt his blustered response.

"Uh huh, right," she replied, her expression evening out. She placed a hand on his wrist. "I'm starting to see what's going on. You know, Emily is really smart and sweet and for some reason she's falling in love with you, even though you still haven't fully opened up to her. I get that I have no idea just how tough it was to lose Lara, but that was seven years ago. I think it's getting to the point where you're using the fact that you were bon–"

"Captain Pavlik!"

Pavlik's sister looked over her shoulder at the source of the voice. It belonged to a uniformed Starfleet officer in engineering gold. Starfleet officers were a rare sight in Ottawa, where it was more likely for you to spot an RCMP officer in a traditional red dress uniform than a member of Starfleet. Yet, here were two of them. The only difference was that Pavlik wore science blue.

"Kristen!" he stuttered, poorly hiding his surprise. "How did you find me?"

She stopped walking when she was standing just next to the table, and put her hands on her hips.

"I'm an engineer, sir," she replied simply, as if that was enough in terms of explanation. Felix's sister cracked a smile. "So, this is your family emergency?"

"My sister didn't have anyone to lunch with," he replied, gaining some composure. "If you knew her and her busy schedule, you would appreciate how that can be considered an emergency. Kristen, this is my sister Natalie. Natalie, this is Kristen. She's a technical specialist on Project Pathways."

Natalie took Kristen's hand and shook it without standing up.

"I'm sorry," Natalie told her with an apologetic smile. "I did ask Felix if he wanted to get lunch with me today, but I had no idea he had a meeting. Since when do you skip out on work?"

"Since I made captain," he quipped, now looking relaxed. He sipped his coffee and looked at Kristen. "Did Dr. Invar ask you to talk to me?"

"No, I _was_ at the meeting."

Felix looked confused. He expressed this feeling succinctly: "Why?"

Now Kristen looked confused. "Sir, you invited me. Two weeks ago?"

Felix nearly spat out his coffee. "Huh? What? No I didn't." He paused and pondered for a moment. "Oh, wait a minute. Are you talking about the time you asked me if you could come and I said something along the lines of: 'Uh, I guess. But you probably should find something better to do instead.'? Jesus, Kristen, that's not an invitation."

Kristen's cheeks reddened at that realization, but she rallied. "I suppose not, sir. Still, you said that I could come."

"And I also said you should find something better to do," Felix replied, looking at Kristen as if he thought she were a bit strange. "I still think that applies, frankly."

"You should listen to my brother," Natalie chimed in cheerily. "He didn't make captain for nothing."

Natalie caught Kristen quickly suppressing a look of horror, and it nearly caused her to break out laughing. Lieutenant Ferris wasn't used to being teased like this, and she certainly didn't realize she was being teased. That made it funnier.

"Look, Kristen, the rest of the team is enjoying a day off," Felix said, sensing that Natalie was just warming up. "Why don't you go and enjoy it, too? I am."

"Um, yes sir," the brunette replied infirmly. She wasn't exactly sure what she was aiming to accomplish when she was coming here, but now she was certain she wasn't going to accomplish whatever it was. "Good day, sir. Nice to meet you, Natalie."

"Likewise," Natalie beamed. She watched Kristen turn around and walk away the same direction she had come from.

"You're such a bad influence on me," Felix said as soon his subordinate was out of ear shot.

"Why? Don't you joke around with your colleagues?"

"Sure, but I generally don't do it at their expense. That's something you tend to bring out of me."

"Uh huh," she nodded. "So, what's this about missing a meeting?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Felix said dismissively. "I was having some fun at the expense of the boys in the TDT."

"Damn it, _really_ Felix?" Natalie asked, exasperated, shaking her head. "It's been over ten years, are you ever going to let that drop?"

"No, I don't plan on it."  
"It's so childish!"

"Nat, they _fired_ me. This is the God-damn twenty-fourth century, and they _fired_ me over a difference of opinion. Hell, it wouldn't bother me so much if I was wrong," he replied, slapping his hand on the table. "I kept up with their progress, and they hit every snag I predicted they would. And it's one thing if it meant they were stuck on the drawing board for another year or two, but it was their fault we lost the _Daring_. With all two hundred and sixty four hands, I might add."

"Well, maybe they've realized their mistakes and are willing to move on," Natalie offered, naively, in Felix's opinion. He snorted.

"Oh please. The team is virtually unchanged since they recruited me back in '68. They're parasites, the lot of them. While I took up a rifle and shipped out straight to Archanis at the start of hostilities with the Klingons, they sat on their duffs back here on Earth. While I kept fighting on the front line for _three years_ and didn't come home until a year after we defeated the Dominion, not once did they offer to waive their special exemptions and help relieve the officer shortage in the active service," he said, contempt dripping from his voice. "They're due to come up for review in November at Starfleet Command. They're hoping to bring someone on will look like they're doing something of value, when the reality is this: the project is a failure. It has been since the shakedown of the _Excelsior_, nearly a century ago."

Natalie rapped her fingers on the table and raised an eyebrow. "Is that all?"

"Also, if I joined the team, they'd make me wear gold in my uniform."

"Now _that's_ unforgivable."

"I thought you'd be on my side if I chose the right tact," he said and took the lull in the conversation to change the subject. "So, what are you up to today?"

"I have to get back to Paris in about forty-five minutes. I have a meeting with the boss about the new legislation we're introducing. Real dull stuff. What about you?"

"I'm meeting with Admiral Zhukov in an hour."

"Oh, Zhukov? Isn't Admiral Mikpa your supervisor at Starfleet Research?"

"Sure is. Zhukov's commander of the Second Fleet."

A huge grin grew across Natalie's face. "You don't mean to say that...?"

"Who knows?" Felix shrugged nonchalantly. "I've had my name on the list for four months now and I haven't been interviewed yet. I'm trying not to get my hopes up. I can be a lot of use to him without leaving Earth, too. It might be that. He probably could use a good staff officer or two."

"Do you really want to be a paper-pusher, though?"

"I don't think so, but a year or two working with Zhukov could put me in a position to be given a command of my own, at least. I'll talk to the man and see how it goes."

"Fair enough," Natalie said after she finished her coffee. She crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward. "So, did you tell _Emily _about this meeting?"


	2. Chapter II

Chapter II

Admiral Ivan Ondrejovich Zhukov never understood his fellow Starfleet Officer's obsession with San Francisco. Earth was home to dozens of more beautiful cities, and Starfleet maintained bases or offices in nearly all of them, yet it was rare for a flag officer to select offices that weren't in the Golden Gate City.

Sure, he had some good times studying in the city as a cadet, but he had always had the best time at parties in cities where wearing a cadet's uniform was unusual. And sure, Starfleet Headquarters was there, but he couldn't remember the last time a flag officer walked between buildings instead of using a transporter, so what's the point of being in the same city?

Then again, he was Russian. Maybe all his reasoning was just a rationalization for selecting Starfleet's Moscow Red Square office as the base of operations for the Second Fleet. Although he wasn't born in the city, he felt drawn to it. He would long for the city when he was away from it, not unlike how he would long for his own wife. Those feelings only seemed to grow the years went by.

That was why, in his old age, he never strayed far from his wife – or his city.

He idly wondered how his wife was doing. She had a staff meeting with her faculty at the local gymnasium, and there was set to be a big fight over the curriculum. New revelations about the Great Patriotic War had caused the Ministry of Education to propose changes on what's taught. The faculty was going to fight those changes tooth and nail, and poor Anya was charged with forcing it on them. Personally, she didn't support the changes to the curriculum, but she was an administrator, so she had no choice.

But that was neither here nor there. Zhukov realized he had not responded to his guest's question and chided himself for letting his mind wander. He looked upon his companion, an attractive human woman in her mid-fifties with calming brown eyes. She wore the pips for a commodore – _Rear Admiral, lower grade_, Zhukov reminded himself – that he had given her only a month before when he promoted her.

Her name was Allison Meyer and she was replacing the retiring Rear Admiral Shu'Sang as Commander of the Second Fleet's 48th Operations Wing. Zhukov found her to be an intelligent officer with a surprisingly sharp wit. She had proven herself to be a solid tactician and strategist during the Dominion War, and her commitment to humanitarian aid and exploration had been proven during her tenure as captain of the USS _Deliverance_ once the guns went silent.

She was here this day to help interview candidates to fill the two empty captain chairs in her wing. One was an _Intrepid_-class ship, the _Surprise_. Her captain had been selected to command the brand new _Luna _-class USS _Ganymede_ and was taking most of the crew with him. The other was a brand new _Prometheus_-class USS _Atlas_.

The _Surprise_ and the _Atlas_ were both new additions to the 48th OW, and although Zhukov had the final say to the appointment of their captains, he allowed Meyer to make a short list of officers she'd like to see in the two vacant captain's chairs.

She had produced a list of seven candidates, three of them currently of the rank commander and only two of them had ever served under her in her chain of command. Zhukov respected that; they said patronage was dead, yet it seemed like a lot of captains before the Dominion War were promoted by their "old friends." He very privately believed it one of the key reasons why Starfleet had been whipped so badly in the first year of the war.

Still, Meyer had put on the top of her list her first executive officer of the _Deliverance_. Captain Felix Pavlik was a decorated war veteran and currently Director of Project Pathways. Zhukov was aware Pavlik was seeking a captain's chair – having put his name in the command pool four months ago – but he didn't seriously look into the man's dossier until Meyer had nominated him. From what he could tell, his position on the list was no act of cronyism.

The flag officer looked over at his junior. She was using the faded reflection of herself to aid her attempts to straighten her uniform and fix her hair. Ivan suppressed a grin – the vanity of a new admiral was about as sure as anything in the known universe.

Only a few minutes past before the first candidate arrived. Felix Pavlik was a tall, well built, if somewhat slender, man in his late thirties. He wore his chestnut brown hair somewhat long, overhanging his ears, and his beard was approaching a length where it would be considered untidy. This is not to say he looked unprofessional, just a man with more interesting things to worry about than exactness in appearance.

The interview began and Zhukov quickly found out that Pavlik had many of the qualities that befitted a Starfleet officer of his rank. They spoke on a variety of issues, from the prime directive to tactics – Pavlik's grasp of fleet-wide actions was first rate and his engineering background gave him access to unique strategies a classically trained Romulan or Klingon commander would never think of – to family and hobbies.

In the hour and a half conversation they had, there was only one thing that bothered Zhukov.

"You've been working three years planet-side. I'm sure you've made friends outside of the service and have just started to form some roots on Earth again. Why return to a starship? There aren't many commands that will keep you within spitting distance of Earth."

For the first time Pavlik's expression became guarded. After a moment, Zhukov amended that: his look was one of resolve. Minutely, yet instinctively, he leaned forward to listen to the captain's reply.

"War lurks on the horizon," Pavlik said gravely after a moment of thought. "And, respectfully sir, I know my place during one is on the bridge of a starship, not in a research laboratory in San Francisco."

Zhukov exchanged a look with Meyer, but could not fake the look of astonishment that he needed to feign ignorance as well as he'd like. Meyer, on the other hand, was a better actor than he.

"War? With who?" She asked, very convincingly looking surprised.

"The Klingon Empire," Pavlik supplied readily to answer Meyer. "Honestly, sir, I'd resign my commission and move to a neutral planet if Starfleet Intelligence wasn't warning you of the same thing."

Zhukov could tell Meyer was going to keep up the charade, so he raised a single hand to stop her.

"Alright, captain, tell us why you believe that," the admiral said, hoping sincerely that it wasn't because of an intelligence officer's loose lips.

"Ever since the Khitomer Accords were signed, there have been voices of dissent in the Federation, which oppose an alliance with the Klingons. On the basis, of course, that it's antithetical to our principles to ally with a brutal, oppressive, oligarchy like the Klingon High Council.

"That said, while most Federation citizens sympathized with this view, popular opinion has generally been in favour of a Federation-Klingon Alliance to maintain peace and a balance of power against Cardassia and Romulus.

"Now that those threats are effectively neutralized, the old opponents of Khitomer have re-opened the debate. The argument for ending the alliance has been resonating amongst the voters since the last presidential election, even with the defeat of Special Emissary Pagro.

"I figure that popular will of the people will shift from generally pro-alliance to against in two stages. First, people will wish the government put pressure on the Klingons to democratize and liberate subject worlds. Martok is as progressive a Klingon as you can reasonably hope for, but that's not saying much. Even if he did everything we asked of him, he would likely be assassinated or, at the very least challenged, before any substantive change could come from it and whoever replaced him would assuredly be anti-Federation.

"More realistically, Martok will make some compromise, making him unpopular with his people, but not enough to please critics here, making him unpopular in the Federation. At that point, it will only be a question of whether Martok is overthrown before or after the Federation public gets fed up with Klingon conservatism and pressures the government into abandoning the alliance.

"With the fall of the Federation-Klingon Alliance, there will inevitably be another cold war. One that won't end until the Empire attacks or collapses. Either way, it will likely mean an open conflict on a scale much greater than what we saw when we fought over Archanis."

Zhukov paused for a moment to ensure that Pavlik was finished speaking. He was careful not to give away what he was thinking.

"Starfleet Intelligence is predicting the same thing," Meyer said with something resembling awe in her voice. Apparently her former XO surprised her, which pleased Zhukov.

"Do you have a timeline in your head to fit this series of events?" Zhukov asked Pavlik, ignoring Rear Admiral Meyer and treating the captain as he did the intelligence officer who gave him a similar briefing six months ago.

"I'm sure Starfleet Intelligence has a more accurate projection," Pavlik admonished. He shrugged. "It's so hard to judge how fast these things can go, but my best guess is that the alliance will end anywhere from five to seven years from now. If the Klingons are prudent, they probably should spend five to ten years after the collapse of the alliance preparing for war against Starfleet, though once tensions are high a spark is liable to start the fire sooner than that."

Zhukov nodded. Pavlik's projections were more conservative than what Starfleet Intelligence believed. They pegged the alliance coming to an end three to five years from now and war breaking out only a year or two after that. Still, SI had a building full of analysts to come up with that number. Pavlik did a pretty good job on his own.

"Let's say you're right," Zhukov said, which Pavlik could tell meant that he was, more or less. "What makes you think that you'll do the Federation more good serving on a starship instead of in a laboratory?"

Pavlik stopped a minute to ponder the question. "There are literally millions of scientists working day and night on Earth and billions of scientists in the Federation. My skill as an engineer or scientist is just a drop in the proverbial bucket. But how many Starship Captains do we have with experience fighting Klingons, Cardassians, Borg and Jem'Hadar?

"With my experience, I can prepare officers not to just be first rate scientists or engineers, but soldiers. Sir, I can save lives by passing on the skills I've learned to others. I know I can make a difference if I get to be on a bridge. That's more than what I can say if I stay in a lab."

Zhukov nodded, but kept his face neutral. He looked at the chronometer on the wall. "We've kept you here long enough, captain. Dismissed."

All three officers stood up. Meyer offered her hand to Pavlik first, who took it and smiled graciously.

"Good to see you, captain," the rear admiral said warmly.

"Always a pleasure, ma'am," Pavlik replied.

Zhukov took his hand and Pavlik shook it firmly with a more guarded expression on his face. He nodded, turned and walked out of the office.

Once Pavlik left the room, Zhukov sat back down and looked at Rear Admiral Meyer. She sat down opposite him, in the chair Pavlik had used.

"So, what do you think, admiral?" Zhukov asked after a moment of silence.

"I want to give him the _Atlas_," Meyer said firmly, certain that her protégé had sufficiently impressed the full admiral of his command potential.

Zhukov surprised her when he shook his head.

"He's not experienced enough," he said and then raised his hand when he saw Meyer open her mouth to object. "And no, commanding Starfleet's equivalent of a gunboat" – he was referring somewhat derogatorily to the _Defiant_-class – "in a taskforce during the war doesn't count as commanding a real starship. He has next to no diplomatic experience, no first contact experience – two of the more important things required of a commander of a fast cruiser like the _Atlas_, which would be stationed on the frontier.

"That said, I like him and I think he'll be a valuable commander now and even more so in the future. Give him the _Surprise_, and put her near the old DMZ.

"He'll gain valuable experience dealing with Cardassians, Breen and those damned uppity Federation colonists out there. In time, he'll eventually be ready for a ship like the _Atlas_ and if he lives up to his own promises, he'll have prepared a candidate in his mould for the _Surprise_."

Meyer nodded. She understood that Zhukov was mixing his orders – giving Pavlik the _Surprise_ instead of _Atlas_ – with his suggestions on how to build Pavlik's experience. She knew he would respect her decision either way, but she also knew that he was giving this advice for her benefit.

"Thank you, admiral," she said. Her eyes flicked to the chronometer and then to the door. "Shall we call in the next candidate?"


	3. Chapter III

Chapter III

_All told, it went as well as could be expected_, reflected a flushed Felix Pavlik as the swished shut and locked behind his girlfriend. Well, maybe ex-girlfriend. _Did we break up? The hell if I could decipher anything like a coherent thought from all of the shouting._

He surveyed his living room. Having some experience with dealing with passionate women, he thought of the damage as relatively minor. A pillow on the floor near his bookcase that belonged on his couch, a holoframe knocked from the side table and two untouched cups and saucers of tea on the coffee table was all that were out of place in this otherwise tidy space.

It could hardly be described as Spartan, as many other Starfleet Officer's planet-side homes were. His walls were adorned with various personal effects. The north wall was where he put his diplomas, degrees, medals and citations. The south wall were portraits, both static and holographic, of the people most important to him which included his parents, grandparents and friends - both those lost in the wars of the last decade and those who managed to survive them.

The east wall, the one that lacked any entranceways or windows, was cluttered with images of his personal interests: tall-ships and other sailing vessels, a couple of his favourite classic starship designs, and, of course, maps. He delighted at the map collection he had amassed, almost entirely of the older, strictly static two-dimensional kind. He was certainly more inclined towards interpreting them and their clever dotted lines and color-coding than standing in the middle of a holographic projection, and this put him in the extreme minority of common folk.

Overall, his room had the feel befitting a man of his experience as a sort of jack of all trades. At points of career he had worn all three colours of the service, in virtually every capacity. He had spent some years planet-bound as a researcher, but about just as many travelling the galaxy in various capacities, from engineer to spy to infantryman to commander to humanitarian.

It was the merciless meat-grinder of war - first against the Klingons, then the Borg and finally the Dominion - that allowed him to find his true calling. In his heart, he knew he was a soldier. He took no pleasure from the act of killing, but he was singularly efficient at it and the feeling that followed any sacrifice he made for king and country was what gave him the most profound sense of purpose he knew. He had long come to terms with the fact that this would isolate him in a society where compassionate individualism was the norm, so he doubted that his fight with Emily would be the last of its type - even if it were the last one with her.

Having set his living room back to rights, Pavlik dismissed the idea of having a beer and decided to turn in early. He walked into his small, but adequate, bedroom and ordered the lights to dim illumination. A cold chill ran down his spine as he caught with his eye a dark figure.

"Son of a bitch," he exclaimed, half out of surprise and half out of recognition. His eyes ran to above his headboard, where his family's antique rifle was hung, and looked at it longingly.

"You didn't think we forgot about you, Felix," said the shadowy figure as she stepped underneath a pot light. She was a relatively short human woman in her late sixties, still looking as chipper as women her age typically were in the year 2379. Felix had always imagined that she was something of a looker in her day, back when the hairstyle she wore her hair was still fashionable, which was more than thirty years ago. She wore the plain black jumpsuit that seemed to be the uniform of her "branch" of the service, and she looked much worn since Pavlik last saw her.

"I am just shocked at the fact that you're still alive, Sloan," he said in a half sigh as he still pondered his firearm. Not that he was feeling particularly murderous; it was just that he wanted these nut-jobs and terrorists to leave him alone. "Given the general incompetence of your organization, I figured you'd have gotten yourself killed by now."

The older woman threw back her head and cackled. "I have missed you, Felix. I really have. But, I didn't just come for the jokes. Congratulations are in order, Captain. You are to be given the _Surprise_, but you won't get the orders until the end of the week."

Felix visibly tensed. He was torn at the news; happy that he had gotten a command, but deeply upset he had to hear it from this particular source.

"I suppose that now I would be of use to you," he said with thinly-veiled distaste.

"As you were back when you were first officer of the _Deliverance_," she replied, ignoring his tone. "And if you had agreed to my proposition then, that _Sovereign-_class masterpiece may have been yours now. Instead, you are reduced to the _Surprise_."

"A small price to pay to serve with a clear conscience," he replied easily, moving to his wardrobe. He pulled out a pair of pyjamas. "I'll have my pick soon enough."

"Only if it pleases the organization," the woman replied menacingly. She took a step toward Pavlik. "Given what we know about you, Captain, you serve in Starfleet at our leisure. I hope you haven't forgotten that."

"If you and your kind actually believe in that nonsense you spew about protecting the Federation, then you'll let me serve and leave me alone. You and I both know that I'm a greater asset in the stars as an officer than on Earth as a private citizen, even if I'm not in your pocket." Felix stripped off his shirt and replaced it with a light cotton top. "Besides, you made the same threats back on the _Deliverance_ and I outmanoeuvred your hidden, scary, omnipresent secret service then. You're not so tough."

"Is that how you saw your transfer off your ship?" Sloan laughed hoarsely again. "It never occurred to you that maybe we _wanted_ you back on Earth and on a counsellor's couch for a time?"

At this, Pavlik burst out laughing so hard he almost tripped over his pyjama pants. He took a moment to regain his balance and smirked sarcastically at his elder. "Maybe this omnipotent, game-in-a-game, everything-has-a-purpose bullshit impresses the wide-eyed innocent ensigns who want a little excitement to improve the dull, meaningless existence they have to endure on some deep-space tub, but I ain't twenty two anymore. I won't fall for it."

"Given the nature of my work, you're only being prudent by not believing me," Sloan acknowledged, but then she produced a PADD out of seemingly nowhere. She handed it over to Felix. She smiled hollowly. "That, however, might convince you otherwise."

Felix, against his better judgement, read the PADD. It was a psychological evaluation dated shortly after the Second Borg Invasion. He checked the file's authenticity code and it appeared legitimate. While skimming through the report, a few key phrases jumped out at him, such as "_suffers from severe emotional trauma,_" "_a likely candidate for depression, survivor's guilt_," and, the coup de grace, "_it is Starfleet Medical's opinion that Lieutenant Commander Pavlik is unfit for... any assignment in a command setting._"

When Sloan read from his expression that Felix had seen these highlights, she continued, "You were given command of the _Audacious_ in spite of Starfleet Medical's most ardent objections, thanks to some well-placed sympathizers who recognized your true potential."

Pavlik was too dumbfounded to note that she had carefully avoided claiming any direct credit for his assignment to the _Audacious_, which he would have normally found significant – it meant that Sloan's organization had nothing to do with it.

"Although it would be nice to have an ally on another Sovereign-class ship, it would also serve us to make sure our operative had a clean bill of mental health," Sloan continued without breaking stride. "After all, the man who's serving in spite of the recommendation of Starfleet Medical is going to be the first person suspected of any out of the ordinary."

"Shut up," Felix demanded, his voice almost as shaky as he felt after learning that he had only done precisely what Sloan wanted. He had felt quite secure in his superiority after their last encounter, and he missed that sense of security desperately. "I owe you nothing. And I'm never going to be your agent."

Sloan waved her hand dismissively. "None of our operatives say they will. Well, at first.

"We'll be in touch, I'm sure."

The lights flickered, and before he knew it, Sloan was gone.

He plopped down in his bed, but not before he picked up his rifle. It had once belonged to a distant, but direct, ancestor who had fought during the First World War. A peasant who fought as a grunt in the Austro-Hungarian Army in Italy. While it still could shoot, Felix had no bullets for it. He would replicate them every time he took it down to the shooting range. So, although it could be quite deadly in the right hands, its power in this era was merely symbolic.

_No_, he thought, as he held the weapon close to his bosom. _It will not do. I'll have to start carrying around a concealable phaser._

Pavlik did not hear from Sloan over the next few days, which was just as well. He had decided to put her tip into good use and he began to prepare for his new assignment. With his project at Starfleet Research winding down anyway, he pushed his team to accelerate the preparations to pass it off to the Starfleet Corps of Engineers, who were tasked with implementation.

He also had some personal business to attend to as well. His first visit was to the Main Earth Branch of the Commercial Bank of Ferenginar to speak to his broker about an advance. He had learned during the war the value of keeping a few bars of latinum on hand while off-world, and when trade and investment restrictions were eased as a result of the enlightened tenure of Grand Nagus Rom, Felix was quick to make some investments. He was delighted to find that they were doing quite nicely, producing a steady profit from dividends alone, meaning he would not have to touch the principle amount he had amassed over the last few years to be able to cover the occasional need for hard cash that arises on the frontier.

Another item on his to-do list was to get in touch with some of his friends and contacts around the fleet. He had found out that the _Surprise_ was currently without a crew, and that made it almost certain that he would be allowed to assemble his own. Through his relations he intended to gain some direction in making his choices. He knew that most officer's records were spotless, filled with glowing recommendations. What he needed was, instead, a sense of who out there would be a good fit for his way of doing things.

The only position he didn't require some advice on was that of first officer. He already knew who he would pick and that he would be eager to serve. In spite his species' - and his personal - reputation of being easy going and all for free-love, Treyvin Smyne, a Risan, had never been indiscrete with the relationships he had while serving as an officer, except for one, with the wife of a highly-placed Bolian diplomat. Although Pavlik didn't seriously suspect that there was any systematic discrimination of his friend as some kind of retribution, he wasn't astonished that Smyne was stuck at the rank of commander or in a Starbase. That kind of lapse in judgement was a black mark.

"For the love of the Sun," Smyne exclaimed when Felix had called him. "You can get me off this tin can? I'll be on the first transport to Earth."

"Whoa there, Trey, what I know is currently unofficial. My source says I should know for sure by the end of the week. And who knows how long its refit is going to take?"

"The _Surprise_ stopped here on its way back to Utopia Planetia. Aside from some minor upgrades and maintenance, she's ready for another cruise. Won't be more than a month."

"Your orders might not come through until then."

"No worries, friend. I've got enough shore leave to cover that. I just want to get back on a ship, you understand?"

Felix did.


	4. Chapter IV

Chapter IV

Lieutenant Commander April Petrovic, Chief of Operations and Second Officer of the USS _Sherbrook_ sat during the second watch of the day. A vessel in Admiral Zhukov's Second Fleet, she was one of several hundred ships deployed in the Bolian Corridor, which extended from the Kytani system all the way to the former Demilitarized Zone. The _Akira-_class heavy cruiser was assigned to patrol a twenty light-year stretch between the Federation colonies in the Kytani system all the way to Dmuriz system, a formerly independent world and now a Federation Protectorate.

All was quiet in this area of space, and so all that was really expected of Commander Petrovic was to cover her shift peacefully and help organize a few of the social events scheduled for over the next week. As a former member of Starfleet's elite Marine Corps, she found this work to be uninteresting at best.

It was starting to look to April that her usefulness to Starfleet was over. It might be why she had been passed over for promotion to XO several times over the past two years. After a decade of threats, both cold war and hot, the Federation seemed finally to be entering another era of peace. The Alpha Quadrant's dominant power no longer needed to turn out soldiers, and she was now felt like she was being abandoned, left to rot as a Lieutenant Commander on a torpedo boat in a pacified sector of space.

At least she still had work in uniform. The wars caused the SFMC to balloon, and while the Corps had found uses in the Cardassian Aid Efforts and maintaining peace in the former DMZ, the Federation Council had mandated in 2376 a massive decrease in the number of active Marines back to its 2366 levels – which, essentially, put four-fifths of her colleagues out of work.

It was okay, of course. Most found work planet-side, working for local police, security firms and the like. A few got into politics, a few got into business... and April Petrovic got into Starfleet.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. She had gone to the academy, and she had a few friends aboard the USS _Limitless_, the ship she was garrisoned aboard during the Dominion War. They made her assistant chief of security and gave her control of the armoury, with a promise of being made chief when the current one got promoted, an inevitability given his war record.

And so Petrovic did get her promotion and new position a year later. She was a popular and successful officer aboard the _Limitless_, and she was made Second Officer only four months after making chief of security. Her captain, a brilliant female officer by the name of Victoria Khan, had given her nothing but glowing reports during her time aboard the _Limitless_, yet no XO job offer was forthcoming.

So, hoping to improve her chances for promotion, she took a post aboard the _Sherbrook_ as Chief of Operations. So far, it had been a dreadfully dull assignment. As far as she could tell, the Operations Officer merely defers everything to the experts. Just last week, there was a planned security exercise. Was she expected to participate? Oh no, just make sure everyone on the list she was given had the same shift off. Engineering had to run a series of diagnostics in preparation for the survey of the Dmuriz system due next week. Was she needed to help? Oh, no, don't worry about it. Just make sure everyone else knows what their job is.

How was this experience preparing her for being an XO? Most first officers she'd seen were quite hands on and energetic. This job required the _exact opposite_ of that.

Speaking of meaningless, hands-off work, a transmission was coming in from Starfleet Research. _There was a time when the only work a woman could find was answering calls,_ Petrovic reflected, _what did they call the job? Oh yes, a _secretary. _That's what I am, after three tours fighting Jem'Hadar; I am now just a secretary._

She was a little surprised to see that the call was meant for her, and it was coming from a Captain. She couldn't recall any contacts at Starfleet Research, and so she put her regular console on standby and braced herself for the unknown.

"Hello Commander Petrovic," a voice rang out to her. The image of the person it belonged to was a science officer with captain's pips and a friendly, but reserved, smile, hidden a little by a beard that was allowed to grow slightly longer than regulations suggested - which was the same that could be said about the schlock of light brown hair atop his head.

"I recognize you from the file photo," he continued before she had a chance to reply. "My name is Felix Pavlik."

"Good day, Captain Pavlik," April managed now that she was given a moment to reply. She mustered all the politeness that an Ops officer was to wield. "How can I help you, today, sir?"

"Actually, commander, I was hoping I could help you," he replied. "I've been given command of the _Surprise_ and in contact with your former CO, Captain Khan. I served under her when she was Chief Science Officer of the _Grissom_ and I was on my cadet cruise. But I digress.

"She speaks highly of your integrity and tells me you are eager for a promotion to first officer. I've read through your file, and, I must confess, I agree with her assessment. You are not prepared to be a first officer," he paused as he watched the growing grin on her face disappear. The negative review from Captain Khan seemed to be particularly stinging. As way of consolation, he offered: "I am, however, more than willing to offer you the position of Chief Tactical Officer."

"Sir, with all due respect, I have been aboard the _Sherbrook_ for only six months after coming from the _Limitless_. It's one thing to transfer for a promotion, but I fail to see the point of another lateral move. If what you're telling me is that lieutenant commander is the ceiling for me in Starfleet, then I would rather consider resignation than another transfer."

"Ah, Victoria warned me that would be your likely reaction," Pavlik replied, sitting back in his chair slightly. He tapped a few commands into his console. "I wish to direct your attention to the file I am transmitting to you now. When you asked for a transfer from the _Limitless_, Captain Khan suggested that you to redo your aptitude tests. These are the results."

With a punch of a button, April saw the panel underneath the captain's image list her aptitude test results. Before looking at them closely, she ventured, "Is this not against regulation, sir?"

"It's against custom, certainly," Pavlik supplied readily, a hint of amusement twinkled in his eye. "Regulation, however? That is purposely a little hazy. The brass haven't completely eliminated the notion of captain's prerogative, after all."

If April had been able to focus on his expression as she scanned over her test results, she wouldn't have been able to tell if that twinkle dispersed any as her nose scrunched up at what she saw. There was a long pause.

"As you can see, your aptitude tests for command, security procedures, tactical manoeuvres, weapons/explosives-handling and weapons maintenance are all extraordinary. They are adequate for a first officer in diplomacy and interspecies relations. Your piloting rating is higher than mine, but that's nothing to write home about.

"Where you barely meet expectations are mathematics, astrophysics, subspace mechanics, general relativity, quantum mechanics, temporal mechanics and general engineering – both field and theoretical."

Indeed, she fell into the lowest deciles in those categories for those who can maintain their bridge privileges. In most of these areas she had failed to improve her scores since graduation from the Academy, and, in fact, in some areas she had managed to post a steady decline over the years. She knew that these test results now showed that some cadets were in fact better prepared for a command role than her. It was shocking to say the least.

"I had no idea, sir, that I had let things get to this point," Petrovic said slowly, her whole being still reeling in shock.

"Captain Khan agreed to your transfer to operations chief aboard the _Sherbrook_ with the agreement that Captain Chen take it easy on you, let you study up and prepare for the XO role," Felix explained, any amusement from his expression extinguished and his tone firm. "Instead, I'm told that you've spend your additional leisure time honing your already formidable skills. That wasn't what they were looking for."

"Why didn't they just tell me, sir? If I had known..."

"They wanted to see if you had the self-awareness to realize that the problem lay within and the initiative to seek out a solution. They were testing your willingness to leave your comfort zone as well as think outside of the box," Pavlik replied with an increasing grave look. "Khan tells me that both she and Captain Chen have deemed their experiment a failure, and Chen is open to let you be reassigned. As for me, I'll make you my security officer, if you're willing to work your ass off to bring yourself up to speed. Only then can we discuss promotion."

April glanced at Pavlik's eyes and her expression underwent a wonderful transformation from insecure to hard steel. "I would be most grateful for the opportunity, sir."


	5. Chapter V

Chapter V

When Kristen Ferris saw the memo, she was confused. On her PADD was a list of names from the _Pathways_ team that were to be part of the transition team that would work with the Starfleet Corps of Engineers to help them prepare for implementation. She couldn't find her name. When she ran a search for it in the file, she saw that her status was _designated for reassignment_.

No, she had discussed this with Captain Pavlik. She wanted to be on the transition team, and he had agreed. Once they were done handing things off to the engineers, she would be free to pick her next assignment. She hadn't planned that far ahead, but she was inclined to stick with the captain, as he had become something of a mentor.

She went to his office to see if he could offer something in the way of explanation.

"So his alarm goes off in the next room, waking me up. I can hear him stumble out of it and into the washroom. After a few retches, there's complete silence... and then I hear him say in a low voice, 'Oh God.'"

Delighted laughter rang through the room as Ferris surveyed the room. Two people were sitting on her side of the main desk, a woman in civilian clothing and command officer with tan skin and light blonde hair who had been telling the story. Behind the desk sat Pavlik, whom she barely recognized. Gone was the hair that lingered over his ears, replaced by a standard Starfleet cut that was entirely utilitarian and not at all stylish. As too was his beard, his face now completely smooth. Even his uniform changed, the science blue that brought out his honey coloured eyes was now a rich burgundy, which instead suppressed them.

Captain Pavlik stood up when he saw Ferris standing in the doorway, and following his eyes his companions stood and turned as well.

"Ah, Kristen, I was hoping to speak to you," he said. He gestured to his companions. "This is Commander Treyvin Smyne, and, as you probably recall, my sister Natalie."

They smiled. Treyvin said, "Nice to meet you" and Natalie added, "Good to see you again."

"If you two would excuse us, I'd like to have a chat with Kristen here," Felix told his friends as he sat back down.

"I have to get back to Paris anyhow," Natalie replied, grabbing her purse. She grinned at Felix and pecked Treyvin on the cheek. "I'll see you boys later. Try not to get into too much trouble until then. Lieutenant."

"I guess I will wait outside. I'll just wonder about the lab until you guys are done," Smyne said as he followed Natalie out of the room.

"Don't touch anything!" Pavlik warned.

"Yeah, yeah!" Treyvin replied as the door closed, waving a hand dismissively.

Kristen made a couple of steps to the now unoccupied chairs by Pavlik's desk and sat when he made a gesture for her to occupy one of them.

"What's up, kiddo?"

"How come I am designated for reassignment? You had told me I would be on the transition team."

"That I did, and I'm specifically holding one spot open for you if you really want it–"

"I do," Kristen interrupted.

"Jesus, let me finish," Felix exhaled exasperatedly as he sat back in his chair. "This isn't one of those 'do you really want it?' bullshit tests some officers pull, that's not how I do things. Look, there's another opportunity that has just come up that I would like you to consider."

"Sorry, sir. What is that other opportunity?"

"I've been given the _Surprise_, an _Intrepid_-class cruiser," he explained. "I need a Chief of Operations."

Kristen hesitated, and then frowned. "I am flattered that you would ask, sir, but I'm afraid I can't just answer that question. The only time I've been on a starship was during my academy cruise. My whole life is here. My family, my friends, my girlfriend – I can't decide to put all of that on hold and gallivant across the stars."

"I understand completely and I don't expect an answer right now," Pavlik replied soothingly. He pushed a few buttons on his desk and some data began streaming to her PADD. "Let me sweeten the pot for you, though. You stay on Earth, you'll have to join another team, and you'll be an integral cog in their machine. But just a cog.

"You come with me, and you'll get to head up your own project. I can promise you a laboratory and a full-time crewman officer as an assistant, the use of any science or engineering cadets we can attract for their cruise and any other resources the other departments can spare. It's all laid out in the file I sent you.

"In addition, you'll have a chance to experience life aboard a vessel and pick up some other skills that will be valuable to your future career prospects. You'll need to make at least full commander if you want to be given a project at Starfleet Research, and with bridge experience and a project of your own under your belt, it would be a good way to jump the line and get a couple of promotions more quickly than SR's standard policy of promoting on a schedule. I'd only be a lieutenant commander if I had not served off-planet."

Kristen knew what he said was true. She had seen officers from vessels get parachuted into roles at Starfleet Headquarters because of their experience abroad where they could work on their own projects. She wasn't sure the value of such experiences prepared them to be effective project leaders, but she couldn't argue with the fact that it _was_ an effective way to climb the ladder.

"Sir, I appreciate your generosity. I will consider it."

"Take your time. Talk it over with your family – with Sunita. We are not due to ship out before the end of the month, so I don't need to hear from you until then," Felix explained. They both stood up, and Felix continued with a more modest tone. "If you have the time on Saturday, there is the change of command ceremony aboard the _Surprise_. She's being refitted at Utopia Planetia Shipyards, so you'll have to grab a shuttle to Mars. Commander Smyne, as well as a couple of other members of the senior staff will be in attendance. It might be nice for you to meet your potential colleagues, and I'd appreciate the friendly face for my big day."

"Sure, captain, I'd be happy to," Kristen said with a smile. She stood up and headed for the door. "And congratulations, sir, for being given a ship."

Felix beamed at her. "Thank you, Kristen."

Kristen looked over the file on her PADD as she made her way back to her desk. Here was the entire offer, in slightly more detail than the captain had outlined, but he had not misrepresented anything at all. Aside from the occasional miscommunication, she had never known the captain to fail to live up to his word about assignments and promotions, and that was generally her experience with her senior officers throughout the service. This led to most agreements and special arrangements to be made unofficial, without any supporting documentation.

However, Captain Pavlik was never comfortable with such informality. He insisted on providing his entire staff at Starfleet Research with a detailed outline of responsibilities and rights, making note of any special arrangements or requirements, and he left the files freely accessible on the project database for any team member to review. She hadn't heard anyone ever complain, and she doubted anyone actually ever accessed the outlines from the database, but she knew that mattered little to Pavlik, who insisted on such bureaucratic procedures to 'protect everyone involved.'

Kristen sat down at her desk and drew a deep breath. She placed her PADD down on the desk and put a call to her girlfriend.

"Hey," came a voice from Kristen's display, but no image accompanied it.

"Where are you, love?" Kristen asked, eager to see the radiant dark brown face of her partner.

"I'm at soccer practice, my hair's a mess," was the reply. Kristen kicked herself when she remembered that she knew about the practice.

"Oh, stop, you're gorgeous," Kristen replied. After a moment, her screen flickered to life and her Sunita appeared. They grinned at each other, before the mood turned more serious. "Look, babe, I have been given a big choice to make for work, and I want to talk to you about it."

"OK, sure, I can be back home in an hour. I'll see you then?"

"Sure, sounds good."

With the feed gone dead, Kristen collected her things and packed them neatly into a shoulder bag and logged out of her console. She took her bag with her to Starfleet Research's transporter room and was beamed to the lobby of the building where she shared with Sunita a flat in a posh part of Manchester, England.

She knew she had beaten her girlfriend home by a good forty five minutes, and so Kristen took the time to make herself at home. She changed out of her uniform, let her hair down and waited on the sofa, quietly reading over bulletins and stories on the Interstellar Data-Sharing Network. There was little focus outside of the big story, the collapse of the Romulan Star Empire and the continuing humanitarian crisis Shinzon's coup had caused. She had read all about it over the last few weeks, and more tales of woe would only depress her. There were a couple of news reports of civil unrest in the former Cardassian Demilitarized Zone and some experts were saying that former Maquis sympathizers were galvanizing into a political movement.

Before she could read any more about it, Sunita had arrived at home. Sweat still glistened from her brow and it appeared she had skipped the shower to beat the rush to the stadium complex's single transporter pad. They embraced, kissed and sat down on the sofa.

"What's up?" Sunita asked tentatively. It was a rare thing for Kristen to take time off work. "You said something about a choice at work? If it's something you have to come home from work to talk about, it must be something important."

"It is. It's not a question of whether I work with Starfleet Research or Starfleet Engineering," Kristen explained as she waved her PADD. "Captain Pavlik has offered me a spot aboard a ship – the _Surprise_. I would work as Chief of Operations, but more importantly I'd been given the freedom and resources to lead my own project!"

Sunita remained guarded. "And your other option?"

"Remain on Earth, first as part of the _Pathways_ transition team, and then look for another project that is short a good systems analyst."

"Mm."

"What?"

"Knowing you, it doesn't sound like much of a choice," Sunita remarked firmly and simply.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I don't know why you want to talk to me about this, seeing as I know what you'll do."

"How do you know what I'm going to do when _I _don't?"

"Let's add things up. First of all, I know your Starfleet career was partly inspired by that rah-rah gung-ho wave of Federation patriotism following Wolf 359, where even academics such as yourself turned down Daystrom to serve in Starfleet. But the wars are long over. The Klingons are our allies again, the Dominion are back where they belong, the Borg are nowhere to be seen and even the Romulans are no longer a threat. Why haven't you resigned your commission? There's no one left to fight: _we've won_.

"Then there's the fact that you keep your bridge credentials up to date, even though you had claimed no intention to take an off-world assignment."

"That's not fair," Kristen interjected, her face turning red underneath the verbal assault of her lover. "I keep those up to keep my chances of early promotion high, as recommended by Captain Pavlik."

"Oh, I'm glad you brought _him_ up," Sunita replied, now in full stride. "I always thought that you are so practically _straight_ for him that you'd follow him to the edge of the galaxy and back and damn you for proving me right."

"Hey, I asked to talk to you so we could have an adult conversation about what career path I should take. I didn't do it so you could insult my life, my choices or who I respect," Kristen shot back, her hands clenched so tight they were shaking. "Captain Pavlik is a good boss and a good man. That doesn't mean – "

"I am sick of you mooning over him!" Sunita interrupted, tears welling up in her eyes. "Why don't you sleep with him already and get it over with already?"

"I don't… I don't even know what to say to that," Kristen said, her face scarlet. She stood up and took a step toward the door. "Maybe I should spend the night at the Officer Barracks in San Francisco and let you cool down."

As she walked to the doorway, Sunita stood up and called after her, "As if I'm surprised. More often than not, you spend the night there anyway! It's not like you made this place your home."

At that, Kristen paused in the doorway, fists still clenched, her face entirely red. She started up again without saying any more when she realized that Sunita was right.


	6. Chapter VI

Chapter VI

The relatively small mess hall of _Surprise_ was alive with a happy buzz as the scheduled time for the change of command ceremony approached. Although the bright white dress uniforms of Starfleet officers dominated the room, this being an event in the Federation core, there was also a good number of brightly coloured dresses and dashing civilian suits mixed in. Felix was touched by the size of the turnout, as many of his friends and acquaintances in the solar system had turned up to show their support.

This was the first time Felix had the opportunity to be given a command with a slightest bit of ceremony. When given the _Defiant_-class _Audacious_ there was hardly a handshake before the partly-finished vessel was rushed out of dry-dock to serve as part of then-Captain Meyer's taskforce. When he took temporary command of the previously mothballed _Nautilus_, no one felt it appropriate to celebrate, given that he was being taken from the _Deliverance_ on the eve of a major offensive to guard the core planets in a rusty old boat. While Felix didn't like to think he was big on ceremony, he had to admit that this was nice.

He, for his part, was looking the role of a decorated, worthy captain. Although generally against custom, for this ceremony Pavlik wore both his Starfleet Medal of Honour and his Starfleet Citation for Conspicuous Gallantry; the former around his neck and the latter pinned to his chest. Both medals were given for events in which he had suffered terrible losses, events he felt were too conspicuous in his thoughts but neither honourable nor gallant, and yet he could not imagine going without them on this occasion. He certainly didn't mind the impressed expressions his officers wore as they introduced themselves to him.

He had just finished chatting with a young pilot named Hossa, who would likely serve as _Surprise's _beta shift helmsman when Commander Smyne arrived and walked over.

"What did I miss, boss?" the Risan asked cheekily as he shook Felix's hand. "Is this bucket your ship yet?"

Felix looked at him with false incredulity. "What kind of strange, alien drug did I inhale before I tapped you for XO?"

"With your weak human constitution, there are be more candidates than I'd care to list," Treyvin shot back. He laughed as his friend shook his head slowly. Treyvin tossed an arm around the taller officer and surveyed the room. "Where's this girlfriend of yours? The one I only found out about through Natalie?"

"She's at the buffet table, chatting with my sister," Felix replied with a sigh as he looked over at her. Emily was looking lovely, her long blonde hair up for the occasion, wearing a ruby red gown that hugged her curves and displayed a tasteful amount of cleavage. Felix noted with mixed feelings the approving nod from Treyvin.

"How wonderful!" he said, slapping Felix on the back. "I suppose this means she's forgiven you for the whole bucking-for-a-ship-without-telling-her thing?"

At this, Felix cracked his first laugh of the conversation, effectively ending his role as the straight man foil to Treyvin's funny man bit. "Oh no, Treyvin. She's still _pissed_," he said with special emphasis to convey the severity of her feelings. "I believe she is here to spite me, in a way, by showing me what a wonderful loving companion I am leaving behind."

Treyvin looked confused. "You mean she's being _nice_ to you? Then why do you think that she's angry?"

"Because, brother, she shoots me cold looks when no one else is watching," Felix replied without the least hint of irony. After a silence, he tensed, barely perceptibly but Treyvin picked it up. "She's spotted us. Come on, we should go over so I can introduce you."

The pair of officers crossed the room to the buffet table where the ladies were standing, Treyvin smiling broadly while Felix maintained a carefully neutral expression. Both Natalie and Emily smiled at them and the latter offered Treyvin her hand without prompting.

"Emily, this is Treyvin Smyne, soon to be my first officer," Felix said with perfect civility, smiling politely. The two exchanged pleasantries before he continued. "He was my best friend since we served on the _Impervious_."

"Well, of those that survived the post, anyway," Smyne quipped, much to the horror of the siblings Pavlik. It was a distinctly Risan joke to make, of the kind Treyvin mainly made in Terran company to amuse himself with the reactions. Normally Felix and Natalie were fairly game for the Risan brand of dark humour, each playing the role of the easily-offended caricatures of humans that permeated the known galaxy. However, this time, when he saw Natalie most emphatically mouth _NO_, he realized that this was the wrong time to joke. _Perhaps Felix wasn't joking?_ he thought to himself. He sighed inwardly. _Humans are capable of _such_ melodrama_.

For her part, Emily played it cool, having experience with the peculiarities of dozens of species, not just Risans. She smile politely, nodded, and noted with some grim satisfaction the expression on her boyfriend's face. Then, she saw his eyes dart to the door, and with the slightest turn of the head she caught sight, from the corner of her eye, of the Harbourmaster, who had arrived for the ceremony.

"Excuse us, ladies," Felix told the pair, poorly hiding the relief in his voice. "The ceremony is about to start."

Felix turned and hurried over to the Harbourmaster and Treyvin followed after a polite bow in the direction of the ladies. Felix greeted the Harbourmaster, a fleet captain, and the assistant, a lieutenant commander, and exchanged a few private words before introducing Treyvin, who simply inclined his head in the way of greeting. The three senior officers lined up side by side at the head of the room, and the assistant stood slightly askew and a step or so ahead of them.

"Attention to orders!" boomed the lieutenant commander, and at this the room's Starfleet officers snapped to attention, while the civilians, many unsure of the protocol for themselves, simply fell quiet.

"To Fleet Captain Jeremy Boyle, Commanding Officer, _Utopia Planetia Shipyards_, Stardate 56887.6," the Harbourmaster read. "You are hereby requested and required to relinquish command of the USS _Surprise_ to Captain Felix Pavlik, Starfleet Research, as of this date. Signed Rear Admiral Allison Meyer, Starfleet Command.

"Computer, transfer all command codes to Captain Felix Pavlik, voice authorization: _gamma six_."

"_Transfer complete. USS _Surprise_ now under command of Captain Felix Pavlik_," chimed the computer coolly.

Pavlik turned to Boyle and said, "I relieve you, sir."

Boyle gave a smile as he shook Pavlik's hand. "I stand relieved."

Pavlik then turned to face the rest of the room. "At ease." The officers stood at ease and chatter began to pick up. The civilians hesitated, but were encouraged when Commander Smyne broke rank and insisted that they "Eat!"

Natalie was the first to congratulate Felix, as she came up quickly and gave her older brother a hug and a congratulatory peck on the cheek. She, however, withdrew almost as quickly as she came, so as to give Emily a moment alone with him.

She smiled weakly at him. "So this is what you really want, huh?"

"Yes," he replied after a momentary, apologetic hesitation.

"I can't change your mind?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

Emily sighed, knowing that there was nothing more to be usefully said on the matter. "Then we'll make it work."

"Look, I'm sorry. I should have talked about this decision with you sooner."

"Yes, you should have," she replied matter-of-factly. She briefly observed, and then lightly fingered his medals. "That said, when you get involved with a man with a Medal of Honour and a Citation for Conspicuous Gallantry on his wall, you have to be an idiot not to consider the possibility that he wants to be a starship captain - no matter how shaggy his haircut."

Felix grinned. "You are one hell of a woman, Emily Askew."

"And don't you forget it," she said as they embraced, just before she kissed him on the cheek. He followed it with a kiss on the lips, to which she acquiesced.

"Come, let me introduce you to some of my crew," Felix said after a moment and he led her into a bit of a scrum of well-wishers.

Emily handled herself and the crowd with the ease of a professional hostess. It seemed as though she knew just what to say to flatter others. To his security chief, she remarked, "I'm trusting you not to let the captain do anything stupid. If he returns with another one of these medals on his chest, I'm holding you personally responsible." To Kristen Ferris, "Felix has told me that you are a very smart woman. That, coming from someone who has told me without the least bit of jest that the Dean of the Daystrom Institute is a moron, is high praise indeed." And to Treyvin, who worried they had gotten off on the wrong foot, "I was pleased at first when Felix said you would be his first officer. From what he had told me about you, I had assumed that the decision would display enough poor judgment for Starfleet Command to reconsider."

By the time she had finished and she politely excused both herself and the captain, she had left the group thoroughly charmed and even feeling more comfortable with their new commanding officer. Felix wondered if he could talk Admiral Meyer into giving him a Public Relations Officer and Emily a commission.

"Hey, thanks for tonight," he said as he walked her to the transporter room hand-in-hand. "I can't work a room like you can."

"Don't mention it. I'm sorry I have to leave so early, I would have loved to stay," she replied as she regarded him from the corner of her eye. "When are you bringing the _Surprise_ to Earth?"

"We still only have a skeleton crew here, but most of the senior staff is already aboard. I figure we'll have some fun tonight and then get underway in the morning. It will be a very short cruise to Starbase 1, where we will dock and complete our pre-tour diagnostics. That'll last maybe a week to go through everything as the crew assembles. Then, we'll be ready to go as soon as we receive orders."

"Oh."

"You know, if this whole long distance thing is going to be too hard on you, I won't take it the wrong way if you'd want to see other people."

Emily looked at him with a glare. "No, but I do wonder if you do."

"It's not that. It's just that I... I..." Felix looked away and exhaled. "I'm introverted and intense. I don't always express myself well, and I kept this from you because it was easier for me. You don't deserve that. I feel guilty.

"I still want to be with you - I love you - but actions have consequences and I'd rather face them an-"

"I love you too."

"Huh?"

"You said you loved me," Emily said, looking at Felix like he was a dunce. "I love you too."

"Oh," Felix blushed a bright red. "That's not really how I wanted to tell you. I was thinking something more romantic.

"Fuck it."

Felix wrapped an arm her around the waist, pulled her close, and kissed her.

"I can take one of the shuttles and take you back to Earth in the morning; stay with me tonight." Emily nodded and smiled at Felix. "Give me another thirty minutes for appearances sake, and I'll join you in my quarters."

"Of course."

Felix directed her to one of the wall panels and instructed the computer to show her the way while he returned to the mess hall. There he began to make the rounds that necessarily came before retiring to his quarters. While he lacked the skill and grace of his partner at this kind of enterprise, he handled himself well enough and the occasional flash of wit kept him in good spirits.

He was chatting with an old civilian professor he knew from his time spent as a fellow at the Daystrom Institute and who had taken an interest in Pavlik's career. A Zakdorn of considerable repute in Warp Field Theory, he maintained a steady distaste for Pavlik's non-academic career and saw it as a childish obsession with "playing cowboy." Still, upon this occasion he managed a congeniality not known of his people and the two had a nice discussion as they stared out of the large windows of the mess, which overlooked the impressive sprawl of the shipyards.

"Pardon me, Professor, I need a word with the captain," said a kind female voice, with a faint crackle of age. The pair turned to see a female admiral in her late sixties. The professor bristled briefly, but withdrew politely enough. "Oh Captain, wipe that scowl off your face."

Felix turned back to the window and stared straight ahead intensely. "What are you doing here, Sloan?"

"Dear Felix, did you really think I'd miss your big day?" Silence. "I am pleased to see that you have made up with Emily."

"You leave her alone, do you hear me?" Felix replied, shooting a stern, dangerous look at the undercover agent.

"All citizens have a role to play in ensuring the future of the Federation, Felix," Sloan replied casually. "Although, if you want to make sure that we don't call upon Emily - and, perhaps your sister as well - then all you need to do is cooperate."

"I don't respond well to threats, Sloan," Felix replied as he struggled to regain his calm. "I've been passive in my resistance to your organization. Stay away from my family to keep it that way."

"Captain, my life's work is responding to threats - both external and _internal_," Sloan said in a gravelly, stern voice, shooting him the first dangerous look he had ever seen her wear. "Don't make an enemy of me."

Pavlik looked straight out the window and suppressed a growl. He then turned his head back to the left and was about to say something when he noticed he stood alone. Felix looked over the room, but Sloan was nowhere to be seen. Instinctively, he sought out his first officer, and approached him when he found him.

"Treyvin, a moment," he said to the Risan, who excused himself from a conversation he was having with a young-looking Rigelian lieutenant.

"Boss, she is assigned to the shipyards - I checked," Smyne said defensively, a little red in the face.

"Don't care; not now, anyway," Felix said. He then motioned over his shoulder. "Did you see me talking to the admiral by the windows?"

"An older human with blonde hair, yeah?"

"Did you see her walk out of the room?"

"Umm, no," Treyvin said, his face scrunched up with thought. "Can't say that I did. Why are you asking? I thought that was Admiral Meyer."

"No, it was someone else," Felix replied. Before Treyvin could ask, Felix continued in a low. "I want a list of everyone who's come aboard and left the _Surprise_ for the last twenty-four hours as well as a list of all scheduled maintenance for today and tomorrow. Get Petrovic to help you, but make sure you personally verify that all maintenance was done exactly according to the work order and that you can visually confirm every person to step aboard matches their life-sign readings.

"It's 2234 hours, so I want a full analysis of the internal sensor readings from now back to 2130 and I want to know if there seems to be the least _hint_ of anomalous records. If there's nothing, then go back to 2030 and so on until you find something. Ferris is the top systems analyst at Starfleet Research, so put her on it. Report back to me with what you find."

"Do you want me to get started on this right away?" Treyvin asked, knowing better than asking for an explanation in a crowded room on what sounded like a matter of ship security. He was confident he would be appraised, just in a more appropriate setting.

"No. No, it can wait until morning," Felix replied, shaking his head. "Anything... anomalous will still be that way at 0800. I also don't want to give off the impression that we are looking for anything, just in case we're still being watched."

Treyvin's expression grew concerned and he was shaken to see Felix mirror the look.


	7. Chapter VII

Chapter VII

Commander Petrovic fought off a yawn as she walked to the centre chair of the bridge. She had expected things to be slow today, seeing as how this was the first day any of them were on duty and how the crew was still a skeleton. Instead, when she arrived on the bridge at a little before 0758 hours, the first officer rattled off a series of orders that made it sound like a serious security breach occurred the night before. Unsure of what to make of it, she carried out her instructions to the letter (although she had to get some help from the Andorian chief engineer, Raleev, to verify the status of the repairs).

"I've finished looking over the guest records and checking the work orders with the work done," Petrovic said, handing Smyne a PADD. "It all checks out and according to the engineer, nothing on the work orders is the least bit unusual. Now, can you tell me what this was about?"

"Look, Commander, I'm just following orders, same as you," Smyne replied as he took her PADD and glossed over it. He was just finishing up the same report he had assigned to Petrovic, but it was taking him a bit longer because he inspected the repairs himself instead of deferring to Raleev. So far he found no discrepancies between her report and the one he was finishing. She had passed his test of trust, and he briefly considered mentioning it to Captain Pavlik. He dismissed it. Pavlik would only want to know if she failed.

"You _are_ aware that I'm the chief of security, right?" Petrovic commented, before Smyne had finished with her report. "I should be at least told if this is a drill or not."

"If this is just a drill, it's the finest one I've ever seen. I can offer no explanation for the irregularities in the sensor logs that I've found."

This prompted Smyne to get out of the chair and look at Kristen Ferris, who had been quietly working at the Ops station until she chimed in. When she looked up and saw her two senior officers staring at her intently, she snapped rigidly straight, began hitting commands and directed their attention to the view screen.

"At 2230 hours last night, the internal sensor record until 2234 shows nothing out of the ordinary... except for the fact it is _exactly_ the same as the records for 2226 to 2230. As you can see from the visual representation, there is a jump in the surveillance data." Ferris said as the video of the guests in the mess milling about showed a distinct change in the blink of an eye.

"So someone looped the sensor readings to cover what happened between 2230 and 2234," Petrovic said as she watched the video feed. She looked over her shoulder at Ferris. "Do you have any idea when the records were tampered with? Any leads as to whom?"

Ferris knitted her brow. "Nothing definitive as to the who or how. The when is the only thing I can tell you with any hint of accuracy. The loop was occurring _as it happened_, so they must have been on a timer. That means I can speculate on the who and how, but like I said; nothing definitive."

Before Petrovic could ask more questions, the door to the ready room swished open and the captain stepped out. He glanced at the view screen and then at Ferris.

"Did you finish your report, Lieutenant?"

"Yes sir."

"Good, in my ready room. You too, Smyne. Petrovic, you have the bridge."

Pavlik disappeared behind his ready room doors. Smyne waited for Ferris to walk in first before he went on his way. Petrovic made a step towards the room and Smyne stopped and looked at her sternly. She froze.

On Pavlik's ultra-thin display Ferris ran through the footage from mess hall and Ferris caught him up to speed.

"Well, Lieutenant, please speculate."

"There are two places aboard the vessel where something like this could be done," Kristen explained, keying up a pair of new feeds. "The bridge and main engineering. As you can see, both were empty at the time."

"Wait a minute, how do you know the records were not tampered with there? Maybe after the fact?" asked Smyne.

Kristen grinned. "Excellent question, sir. Internal sensors don't record all the data they possibly could register, but certain things - like the air quality - are constantly monitored at the highest possible sensitivity. Even an empty bridge will have unique sensor readings over any few minute span.

"As the captain will tell you, it's virtually impossible to have a true random number generator. I let the computer search for every algorithm I knew of and came up with nothing. So even if they managed to cover their tracks better than they did in the mess hall, they wouldn't have been able to create readings that would fool the algorithm test.

"So, I would say that I am almost entirely sure that the sensor data was not altered from the two places on the ship that could do it."

"Any more speculation, then, Lieutenant?" Pavlik asked, smiling slightly.

"The only other option is remotely, sir," Kristen replied with a shrug. "And I simply don't see how that could be done. It would require the prefix code, which is not only unique to each senior staff officer, but when used is permanently etched into the ship's logs. It can't be erased or lost, not through any means that would leave the computer core intact and functional.

"This would only leave some sort of programming back door that would allow this sort of thing. I have done a very preliminary search of the computer's operating system code looking for one, but I have come up empty. Frankly, sir, I couldn't conceive such a hole would exist."

"At least, not intentionally," Smyne added as he was looking at Felix. He looked back to Ferris. "Very nicely done, Lieutenant. I see why the captain wanted you aboard."

"Sir, I still have more."

"Very good, Lieutenant," Pavlik said, "please continue."

"As good as these people are, they're not perfect," Kristen explained, feeling particularly clever as she explained. "They made a mistake. You see, when a ship is out of dock, the detailed internal sensor readings are kept for only a day or so before they are erased due to lack of memory space. After the Changeling Scare, however, the policy for ships in shipyards or Starbases changed. These facilities have plenty of room for all the memory you could ever ask for and the internal sensor logs of ships in dock are all duplicated and later archived. So if anything's sabotaged, there is a chance the records can show how and where."

"So they failed to change the records in the shipyard database?"

"That's correct. And I believe I know why," Kristen answered. "Until two months ago, the duplication of the sensor records at _Utopia Planetia_ occurred at the end of every day as they were wiped from the ship's core. When Fleet Captain Boyle took over, he changed the policy to have the sensor readings stream straight to the ship's core and the station's core."

"So the infiltrators just altered the ship's log because they assumed at the end of the day it would be transferred to the yard log." Smyne stated, nodding his head. "It is a good rule of thumb in the intelligence game to do the least amount of hacking required."

Pavlik nodded and smiled broadly at Kristen Ferris. "Excellent work, Ms. Ferris. Please show us the unadulterated sensor record."

"I'm afraid, sir, it raises only more questions," Kristen said as she called up the true files. "As you can see, at 2230, a woman - all life signs indicate a human woman - appear out of thin air just outside of the mess hall. Since she has absolutely no electronic identification on her, the computer could not log who she was. That combined made me think that this was who was trying to be hidden." She paused for a moment to gauge Pavlik's reaction. There was none she could read for certain. "I sifted through the log readings with a fine-tooth comb. Absolutely no evidence of a transporter beam."

"As for the end of the loop, at 2234?" Pavlik queried.

"Same thing. She was there standing beside you one second, then completely gone the next," Ferris answered as she fast-forward the footage. "No energy signature, no particle vacuum. No evidence of how she left the ship."

"And I'm assuming we have no useful information on the woman herself."

"Other than the visual image, no sir. Which, by the way, turns up nothing in the records, but I'm sure that's no shock. As you know, internal sensors are passive scans and identification is done through electronic means: combadges for Starfleet and APEX for the civilians. She was carrying neither."

"Did she have a UT implant?" Pavlik asked, referring to the universal translator device that virtually all Starfleet officers and most civilians have implanted so that they can speak or understand any language they encounter.

"If she did, it was not active," Ferris replied. "Otherwise I might be able to trace the signature back to a name."

"Is that all you have for us, lieutenant? Good work, you are dismissed."

Smyne waited for Ferris leave before he said, "What's with that look?"

"The intruder was a hologram," Pavlik said, allowing the mask of neutrality drop completely. He rubbed his eyes. Before Smyne could ask another question, he continued. "She said something to me that made me upset. And you know that when I get upset, I drop Federation Standard and speak Slovak. Without a UT implant..."

"Could she have fluency in that language?"

"There are no more than twenty million native speakers on Earth, in the neighbourhood of a hundred million who could speak a mutually-comprehensible language in the system out of a population in the tens of billions? So, she _could_, but it's a long shot. Given everything else, I'd say hologram is the safest bet."

"I've never heard of a hologram reading as a human," Smyne replied, thinking intensely. "And I'm pretty certain that the holo-emitters were reading offline though our time period."

"Given the level of technology required to do what we _know_ they have done, it wouldn't surprise me if they had their own version of a mobile emitter. However, no known faction has that kind of technology and reverse-engineering the one brought back by _Voyager_ has not gotten Starfleet Engineering anywhere yet. It's deeply disturbing that they have access to such superior technology."

"By '_they_' I assume you mean Section 31."

"Hmm," Pavlik grunted positively. He had told Treyvin about his encounters with the black operations unit starting some years ago when they had first attempted to recruit him. Pavlik had withheld knowledge of Sloan's most recent visit to his apartment, but knew that he could not do so much longer if he was to get the most out of his First Officer's help.

The brief silence was broken by the door chime. Hardly before Pavlik uttered an annoyed "Come in," April Petrovic was through the door.

"Are you planning to let your chief of security in on what's going on?" she said in a fiery, borderline insubordinate tone.

"Sir," Smyne amended. When Petrovic looked blankly at the commander, Smyne opened his mouth to speak. Pavlik stopped him with a raised hand and a shaking of the head.

"This one is out of your pay grade, lieutenant commander," Pavlik replied. Motioning to Smyne, he continued: "We are assessing the situation and you will be the first to be consulted in the event of changing our security measures – on a strictly need to know basis. For now, you are to return to your station. Dismissed."

Petrovic gaped at her captain, who seemed very different than the friendly, rule-bending man who had convinced her to come aboard, before nodding curtly and retreating from the ready room.

"Wasn't Petrovic the only member of Red Squad to refuse to participate in sabotaging the central power facility during Leyton's attempted coup?" Smyne asked to break the quiet in the ready room. Pavlik nodded. "That kind of public rejection of the 'ends justify the means' philosophy makes it seem highly unlikely she would be affiliated. It would also make her seem to be a natural ally. I was assuming you were going to let her into this discussion."

"Well, I was, until _that_ little display of impulsiveness," Pavlik said, motioning to the door.

"You are getting rigid in your middle age, Felix," Smyne countered with a grin. "What you call impulsiveness might be thought of as initiative."

"By whom? Morons? No, she may be in charge of security, but I am the captain. Everything that goes on this ship is my business, and I merely delegate most security tasks to her when I'm too busy to do it myself. The only reason initiative would be called for is if she had serious doubts about our competence, and I fail to see any justification for that."

"Maybe she read your profile."

Pavlik frowned at his first officer, but continued. "Right now, we should employ the utmost discretion. Unbridled enthusiasm simply will not do. I may let her in at some point, but not until she knows the difference between initiative and recklessness."

"Alright then." A pause. "So, skipper, what do you think we should do?"

"I don't know."


	8. Chapter VIII

Chapter VIII

A pair tricorders hummed softly in a dimly lit, half-empty apartment. Through the window a busy San Francisco landscape could be seen, personal shuttles zooming by on the airway and pedestrians walking home after a day of work. The figures of two women sitting on a couch could be made out, one sitting rigidly and the other relaxed. They were not the ones operating the tricorders, however. That distinction went to the two men wandering about the room, first scanning, but presently standing at opposite ends of the room, entering commands.

"There, that should do it," Captain Felix Pavlik announced as he placed his tricorder on a small table. Across the room, Commander Treyvin Smyne did the same thing.

"That is the most heavy-duty jamming signal I have ever rigged up using just a pair of tricorders. I didn't even think it was possible," Smyne noted.

"I have a few tricks up my sleeve, Trey," Felix replied, his grin hidden in the low light.

"Aw, I bet they teach that to everybody that attends ATCT."

"If you lasted more than a week there, maybe you would have found out."

"As much fun I think it is to listen to you two bicker like and old married couple, I think poor Emily is about to jump out of her skin as a result of all this cloak and dagger stuff," interrupted the calm voice of Natalie Pavlikova. Pavlik and Smyne had teleported Emily from her apartment without warning and brought her here. They did the same to Natalie, but it wasn't the first time for her. "So why don't we get to it already?"

Both men paused momentarily and remembered themselves. They walked to the centre of the room and each sat down. Here enough light shone on their faces to see their eyes, and Pavlik's stared intently at Emily.

"As I have told you, after the Dominion War, I served aboard the USS _Deliverance_ under Allison Meyer as her first officer," Pavlik began, his voice steady and gentle, as soothing as a babbling brook. "As you also know, we were the lead ship in the relief and reconstruction efforts in Cardassian space, helping the survivors of the Jem'Hadar massacre.

"What you _don't_ know – either of you – is that during this time I was approached by a woman named Sloan to join a Federation black ops organization called Section 31."

"Wait – black ops? What is that?" Emily asked, still tense.

"Haven't you ever read a spy novel?" Natalie teased, trying to lighten the mood. "Black operations – black ops – are covert operations where the actions taken and the agents involved were deniable by the government that sponsored them. I was not aware that we undertook any covert operations outside of signal interception."

"Sure, we have a massive complex in San Francisco full of analysts working for Starfleet Intelligence doing just that. We also have people in the field doing reconnaissance and building contacts – filling holes in the information collected from transmissions.

"On occasion, Starfleet Intelligence sanctions missions that involve sabotage, although all the cases I've heard of involved relatively understandable goals like setting back weapons programs, destroying doomsday devices – yes, Natalie, I see that sceptical look but there are such things as doomsday devices and Starfleet blows them up – and while those missions are usually denied by Starfleet and the Federation at the time, they are sanctioned and supervised by Starfleet Command and, in turn, the Federation Council."

"So you were recruited by a faction of Starfleet Intelligence?" Emily asked, looking concerned.

"No, that's the thing: it's a separate, unique entity," Felix answered leaning forward. "From what I was told, Section 31 does not have to report to _anyone_. Not Starfleet Intelligence, nor Command. Not even to the Federation Council."

A look of horror dawned on the so far unflappable face of Natalie Pavlikova and she instantly changed her posture. Suddenly it was clear that this _wasn't _a joke. Treyvin and her brother weren't playing games. They were serious. "Anyone who wants that kind of autonomy cannot be doing things that would live up to scrutiny," she noted.

"Certainly not if they've really been around for two hundred years," Felix replied. "And I'm convinced they've done more harm than good, even if you shelf the immorality of their actions."

"The Federation, with its values of compassion and the rights of sentient beings, has expanded faster than any empire in both the Alpha and Beta Quadrants precisely because of its transparency and benevolence," Treyvin agreed. Risans were an ancient space-faring species, and although they, as a people, made few attempts to expand their holdings before joining the Federation, many among them saw Federation expansion as inevitable given the inclusiveness of the organization.

"What kinds of things did they ask you to do?" Emily asked, her figures teasing a lock of her blonde hair nervously.

"First of all, they abducted me when I was to have a week of shore leave and ran me through a ridiculous test of loyalty. I was put in a simulation – without my knowledge, mind you – where I was led to believe that Captain Meyer was replaced by a changeling and that she might be plotting one last strike against the Federation. Well, I passed."

"How did you do that?" Natalie asked.

"I figured out it was a simulation, and that forced Sloan to end it," Felix supplied readily. "She explained to me who she was and that I had been selected to work as an agent."

"And what did you tell her?"

"What do you think, sis? I told her to go to hell," Felix replied defensively, looking a little hurt. "Not that it did any good. She said that she would be in touch. And she was.

"Some months later, while we were in the former DMZ, she approached me. I was in charge of setting up a new water filtration system on Minicorn IV. It was a resource rich, naturally beautiful world with a single settlement of Cardassians who were suffering, but entrenched.

"She told me about a design flaw in the water infiltration system that was barely detectable. The flaw would fail to filter out a toxin in the ground water that is lethal to Cardassians but tolerable for Humans – a major reason it passed scrutiny at Starfleet Engineering. All she wanted me to do was make sure the system was implemented as designed. With the Cardassian population eradicated, the planet would eventually be settled by Federation colonists. So, of course I went tinkering.

"Recalibrating the system was easier said than done and any delays in implementation could cost lives. I managed to come up with a fix so that running water would be restored only a few hours after we had originally planned. However... something didn't feel right with my solution, and so I held off for another day to review my work. My instinct was correct; my original fix – the most obvious one – would produce a highly explosive chemical compound that would build up in the filters and would ignite during the filter cleaning process, destroying the filtration plant and most of the settlement."

"She tried to get you so focussed on one problem that you would not see the forest for the trees," Natalie said, shaking her head. "Pretty clever; she knew how you can get when faced with a problem."

"Please, that's how _everyone_ gets like when faced with a problem with lives on the line," Felix replied dismissively. "Let's not forget that I beat her, damn it. Minicorn IV is now a growing, prosperous, and healthy Cardassian colony."

"Sloan doesn't seem like the one to respond kindly to setbacks. How did she react?"

"In retrospect? Predictably. She surprised me in my quarters a day or so after the filters were cleaned and made a series of veiled threats. She told me that if I was not more accommodating during my next mission that she would find a way to drum me out of the service – or, more sinisterly, make sure I'd never make captain.

"At the time, though, I was spooked. I had figured that, having beat her, she would leave me alone, not come right back at me. I stayed aboard the _Deliverance_ until her crew was granted some leave... and I never went back. Instead, I accepted an assignment at Starfleet Research. I didn't see Sloan again until I had been assigned to the _Surprise_, here in this very apartment. Then again on the _Surprise_ herself two nights ago."

"So what made you bring this to us now, years after your first encounter?" Natalie queried neutrally. She knew her brother did not like to discuss the service, particularly its darker aspects, and she was surprised by his candour.

"I had very seriously considered keeping this between myself and Trey, as we are both Starfleet officers there are less barriers in terms of what I am free to speak about with him than either of you," Felix replied, his brow furled deeply in a look of concern. He paused to take a deep breath and looked straight into Emily's shimmering eyes. "In our last meeting, Sloan had threatened to use you and Natalie in one of her schemes should I refuse to cooperate. That threat has obligated me to come to you to figure out how to handle this.

"I would like to start off by saying I'm completely open to resigning my commission and retiring from Starfleet."

Natalie was stunned by the offer. Her brother had dedicated his entire adult life to Starfleet. During the Federation's most trying times, he had never shied away from a tough assignment, even volunteering for some of the Dominion War's most perilous missions. Although Felix had never said a word about it, she knew, as a sister might, how high a personal price he had paid to make it through war with both the Klingons and the Dominion. Every minute of his four years on Earth at Starfleet Research had been required to make him whole again; or, at least, something remotely like it. Now that he was finally ready... to be forced to give up his ambition to protect those he loved from the unsolicited advances of a megalomaniac...

"No. To _hell_ with that shit - _no!_" Emily exclaimed to break the silence. Smyne and Natalie both regarded her wide-eyed as neither had ever conceived that the savvy, utterly feminine blonde could swear like a transport captain. "Felix, I want you to stay home with me more than anyone else, but I will not allow you to do it out of a sense of obligation to me or your sister. What in God's name are you going to do as a civilian anyway? Work with the other eggheads at Daystrom? _To hell with that too_, my man is starship captain and I won't let anyone take that away from him. Let's take these sons of bitches down."

The emotions of the four citizens took moments to sort out after Emily's bold declaration of war against Section 31, running the gamut from boisterous bravado to hysterical laughter, and any kind of serious discussion could resume. Following the maxim _know thy enemy_, Treyvin and Felix outlined some suspected Section 31 operations.

"Do you remember that disgraced Admiral that copped it in the Briar Patch? Dougherty?" Treyvin asked the ladies. Both, with the glimmer of recognition in their eyes, nodded. "I was XO on the _Camelot_ when orders came down from Starfleet Command to assist the _Enterprise_ in mopping up the situation. Admiral Nechayev was _baffled_ after our brief. Although the Son'a were nominal Federation allies at the time, she seemed greatly distressed at the idea there was any kind of active partnership. The Federation only made nice with the Son'a to keep them out of the war.

"When we arrived, my friends on the _Enterprise_ told me that Dougherty had claimed to be working under _Federation Council orders_, a statement that never reached reports that made the _FNS _bulletins. I didn't piece it together until Felix told me of his encounter months later, but it seems like a _classic_ Section 31 operation."

"I also believe that they're behind the disaster that struck the Lantaru sector," Felix added. Seeing puzzled expressions on his friend's faces, he picked up a book he had underneath his chair. "This is my great grandfather's copy of the _Official Coalition of Planets Star Chart Companion_. In it, a small Coalition research outpost in the Lantaru sector is mentioned. Except, that would be _impossible_ if you believe the current issue of the _Official United Federation of Planets Star Chart Companion_, which reads, and I quote:

"'_The Lantaru sector has been a perpetual mystery for space-faring species in the adjoining sectors, as it is here that such unusual rifts in subspace occur _naturally_ and in such abundance that maintaining a warp field is as of yet impossible. Buoys are maintained by Starfleet Research warning travellers of the dangers as they continue their study of the phenomenon._'

"There is a classified report that was made available to me when I made captain that confirms that what happened in Lantaru was _not_ natural. What makes me think the involvement of the Section is that this disaster was the result of an outrageously dangerous and overambitious project conducted in complete secrecy in a remote corner of the Federation."

"During the War, I remember one closed session of the council I attended as an aide to Councillor Mathis. A Starfleet doctor had developed a cure for the Changeling's disease, which had affected the entire Great Link, apparently," Natalie recalled slowly, the events being years ago and something she had previously put aside, as they still made her uncomfortable. "As it became known, council faced a motion to share the cure. It was controversial, but a solid majority opposed it.

"While obviously distasteful to all, what really threw me was that nobody asked _how_. _How_ did the Founders get infected with the disease? _How_ could a people so notorious for secrecy and discretion make such a disastrous mistake? And, the biggest _how_ of them all: _how_ could a single Starfleet doctor manage to find a cure that had eluded the _entire_ medical communities of the Vorta, the Cardassians, the Breen and the dozens of other conquered species that the Founders – who themselves are masters of genetic engineering, after all – could bring to bear on the problem?

"It was a question no one seemed willing to ask, for they were afraid of the answer. And I'm not suggesting that the entire council knew of the existence of Section 31, but they definitely knew they something wasn't right... and they just _didn't want to know_."

"Well, Sloan has always told me she was willing to do anything to preserve the Federation's way of life," Felix replied. "Infecting the Great Link with a life-threatening disease would have been seen as an attempt to prevent a war, or, at the very least, end it."

Encouraged, Natalie offered another possibility, "And what about Leyton's coup? Could they have had a hand in that?"

Before Treyvin or Felix could weigh in, Emily spoke.

"No," she said, "the details of the case just don't match Section 31's MO. I read the details of the Leyton Trial extensively while I was in law school. Leyton relied heavily on well-placed officers that were formerly under his direct command."

"And they say nepotism is dead," Treyvin quipped privately to Felix.

"_They_ would like you to think that," Felix replied with a sparkle of levity.

"The Section recruiting methods appear to rely specifically on a _lack _of connection between operatives," Emily continued. "Felix had never met Sloan before and could never hope to trace her connection to him. Furthermore, the Section seems to be obsessed with the idea of protecting the Federation's 'way of life.' If successful, Leyton's coup would have radically altered life in the Federation. It's precisely the thing the Section would want to prevent."

"That's how we saw it," Treyvin commented and Felix nodded. The latter added a quick, "Sorry, sis."

From here the speculation dried up along with the conversation and the gravity of the situation was becoming increasingly apparent to all involved. After all the revelations and speculation, Felix could gauge that his little cell was emotionally exhausted.

"Look, I know that there is so much for us to talk about, but it can wait," he said to break the silence. He stood up. "Trey, can you beam back to my sister's townhouse and make sure it's clear of listening devices and her computers clear of spyware? I'll do the same for Emily."

"Sure thing, boss." He stood up, and took Natalie's hand to help her up. He grabbed the two tricorders, deactivated them and handed the second one to Pavlik. "Smyne to _Dunaj_. Two to beam directly to the residence of Natalie Pavlikova."

As his first officer and sister dematerialized, he turned to face Emily. He offered her both his hands to help her up and he smiled at her tenderly. When she was standing he leaned down and kissed her softly.

"Come, let's get you back home," he said as they smiled at each other. "Pavlik to _Dunaj_. Two to beam to the quarters of Emily Askew."

They were transported smoothly to the foyer of Emily's apartment. Felix bade Emily to sit while he ran some scans. She declined, and instead followed him about the quarters, looking over his shoulder to see what he was doing. Apart from the humming of the tricorder, once again there was a silence of voices.

"There's something you said that I just don't get," Emily told Felix after a few moments passed and he had moved on to checking her computer. "You said that Sloan subjected you to a test of loyalty, but from how you passed it, I would have inferred that it was a test of _intelligence_. I can't shake this feeling that you lied, but about _what_?"

Felix tensed and sighed.

"Clever girl," he murmured. He turned to face her and louder, he replied, "You're right; that's not how I passed the test. The test was designed to see whether or not I held my personal relationships in higher regard than my sense of duty to the Federation.

"The simulation ended when I was ordered by Captain Meyer to carry out a controversial task. Although I lacked definitive proof, I felt as though my suspicion was confirmed and that my CO had been replaced by a Founder. I… _relieved_ her of command."

"You _didn't_, did you?" Emily asked with her heart in her throat. Infinitesimally, she moved away from Felix. "You _shot_ her?"

"I did," Felix replied, the shame of his decision reflected both in his voice and on his face, "_right in the back_."


	9. Chapter IX

Chapter IX

The bridge of the _Surprise_ was a nexus of activity, as technicians and engineers swarmed her inside and out, completing the last minute checks required for a ship embarking on a cruise. Pavlik was parked in the centre seat, signing off on a steady stream of progress reports coming in from all sections. Smyne was off somewhere, probably engineering, troubleshooting in person with Lieutenant Ferris in tow. Petrovic, in contrast, was on the bridge, checking the readiness of the defense systems. It had been a couple of days, but she was still unable to look him in the eye.

_I suppose Command Petrovic is not used to hearing 'no,'_ he thought to himself as he glanced over at her. _Although in all honestly, if I looked like her, I would be too._

Before his thoughts could refocus, Kristen Ferris arrived on the bridge and approached him.

"Sir, Dr. Valru, Ensign Luciani and Lieutenant Vokoun have just beamed aboard from the _Colorado_," Ferris reported. "The commander is seeing them to their quarters. You told me that once the senior staff was aboard that I was to schedule a meeting. I was thinking the observation lounge in an hour, at 1430?"

"Sounds good," Pavlik replied.

Captain Pavlik was the first to be waiting in the observation lounge, having left the bridge ten minutes before the scheduled start time. Kristen Ferris too was early, showing up five minutes before 1430. The rest showed up within a minute or two of the exact time, punctuated in the middle by Dr. Valru's precise time of arrival. Predictably it was Commander Smyne who was the last to arrive and take his place at the captain's right hand.

Pavlik traded glances with his first officer – the former disapproving, the latter apologetic – before Pavlik's eyes took in his audience. On his immediate left was Petrovic, still looking moody, in the spot due to the second officer. Beside her was Lieutenant Ferris, sitting with a posture that made her look as small as possible. This was her first senior staff meeting and it didn't surprise him that she was nervous. Opposite her was Lieutenant Vokoun, the chief engineer. His blonde hair was slicked back and his posture ramrod straight. The slightly pudgy engineer was the oldest human at the table even though he was still only a lieutenant. In fact, he had started his career a crewman and had been given a battlefield commission during the war. After its conclusion, he spent some time at the Academy to make his commission permanent. Since then he had become a rising star, averaging a promotion a year. Pavlik figured Vokoun would retire an admiral.

Beside him was the expressionless Vulcan doctor Valru, a typical example of a Vulcan beauty. She had come highly recommended by her previous CO, and her performance evaluations, year after year, contained the note that she had a _surprisingly_ good bedside manner, a racial epitaph that while subtle was somewhat jarring to read in a personnel file. Pavlik was a little surprised a doctor of her calibre – his top choice for CMO, but also undoubtedly a leading candidate for the position on a _Galaxy_- or _Sovereign_-class vessel – would agree to such a small practice on a ship with only average facilities, but he was glad to have her. Across the table, back to the left of Ferris, was the youngest looking ensign in the service: one Anton Luciani, Chief Science Officer. He was the leader of a cabal of four young energetic science officers Pavlik had picked from the Academy's most recent graduating class. Luciani, a fellow mathematician, was the natural choice to head the department of sciences.

Beside the doctor was Lieutenant Antipin, the primary pilot and Pavlik's pick for third officer. Although strong-jawed with dark hair and darker eyes, Antipin had the face of a prize fighter and was by far the least handsome man at the table. He was due for a promotion to lieutenant commander and maybe even an XO job of his own, likely before the unorthodox Smyne was given a captain's chair. While Pavlik figured that Antipin's stay aboard the _Surprise_ would be brief, he was determined to get the most out of the pilot as he could.

Sitting at the opposite head of the table from Pavlik was the Ship's Counsellor, Paul de Vries. When the two made eye contact, de Vries smiled politely while Pavlik had to supress a grimace. De Vries was a former PhD candidate at the University of Amsterdam in xenopsychology who had finished all his requirements but his dissertation, quit school and, for whatever reason, ran off to join Starfleet. His specialty earned him a commission and his master's degree had earned him an extra half-pip on his collar, but he had declined taking a spot in the Academy's Accelerated Officer Training Program, designed for officers that already had the equivalent of a bachelor's degree or better. This meant, however, that de Vries had no right – by either training or tradition – to be considered a part of the senior staff. Pavlik decided to deal with that after the meeting.

"For our latest arrivals, I would like to welcome you to the _Surprise_," he said, smiling graciously. He received the same from his crew, apart from Valru who simply ascended her head agreeably. "I wanted to take this opportunity to discuss my command philosophy and lay out my expectations of my senior staff and the crew in general.

"Those of you who have served aboard a starship before, particularly a one larger than _Surprise_, may be used to a strict chain of command. However, given the size of our crew and the general mission profile we have been given, I would prefer to run the ship in a more collegial manner in her daily operations. Of course we cannot do away with respect for the chain of command entirely, as during moments of crisis we will need to make quick decisions by ranking officers. I expect that you make clear this distinction when you meet with your departments.

"To better facilitate our collegial setting, I will maintain an open-door policy with the entire crew. It can be done either by appointment, or during times I will set aside for drop-ins. Crew members will be free to discuss anything that they wish, only limited by whatever professional confidentiality that may apply. You are also to communicate this to your subordinates as well as my personal guarantee that there will be absolutely no grumbling about going over one's head and if I so much as catch wind of it, I will come down on the officer in question like a ton of bricks.

"I also wish to make it clear that I expect that all of my officers defer to those with the greatest expertise, even – no, _especially_ – if they be non-commission officers. Starfleet's non-commission officers are the backbone of its field operations, and on _Surprise_ they have, compared to the commissioned officers, on average twice the number of years of service. They may lack the well-rounded background of a regular officer, but in their area of expertise they are second to none. They are also professional enough to know when _not_ to offer suggestions, so pulling rank on a NCO is unacceptable and I will not tolerate it.

"As for professionalism, I expect from all of you know how to behave according to Starfleet regulations. The only additional caveat that is generally left to a Captain's prerogative is that of fraternization. As I know it is simply impossible to prevent, I must acquiesce to this point in general and satisfy my concerns by imposing certain restrictions that I feel are self-explanatory. Rule number one: officers must _not_ enter a physical relationship with direct subordinates. Rule number two: members of the senior staff can enter a relationship with fellow senior staff members, if they absolutely _must_, but relationships with the rest of the crew are a one-way ticket to assistant head of your respective departments. So take a look around you; if you were hoping to get lucky this tour you're looking at your options."

The joke, while failing to induce laughter, lightened the mood and Pavlik noticed a few grins on his officers. He took a moment to gauge his team. As expected, Ferris and Vokoun seemed entirely on board – the latter no doubt responding well to Pavlik's comments on NCOs – and took Valru's relatively unguarded expression to mean that she was as well. Petrovic's grimace seemed to take on a new flavour and confirmed Pavlik's suspicion that the former marine would be uncomfortable with the idea of his collegial style. This discomfort seemed to be mirrored by the pilot, Antipin, and the recent graduate Luciani. Pavlik had earlier caught de Vries sizing him up and in order to hide his displeasure at the presumption, he avoided making eye contact with the counsellor.

"I think I should also talk about my management philosophy. I trust each of you to run your respective departments efficiently, fairly and under the guidelines I have given you. I also expect that you are capable to deal with any issues and problems that come up, but I strongly believe that, as Captain, I must be kept informed of _all_ problems that do arise – whether they be technical, logistical or personal – even if they have been resolved without my input. This is not to assert my authority over yours – only in the rarest scenario would I even consider countermanding any of your decisions – but rather to gain an idea of what orders are reasonable and what aren't based on practical limitations, such as personnel or material, and to make sure the right hand always knows what the left hand is doing.

"If you have any questions, feel free to ask any time. I have a written version of my guidelines available in the ship's database if you wish to refer to it at a later date. That is all I'd like to say about my general directives and now, let's move on to specifics.

"The ship is in the midst of its final series of tests and we are currently on schedule for a departure by the end of the week. That reminds me; Lieutenant Vokoun, I have put Commander Smyne on point with regards to the preparations done in Engineering, so you can refer to him for any changes the specifications you had sent ahead and he'll be delighted to explain everything he's done. Mr. Luciani and Dr. Valru, you can get up to date with the status of your departments by talking to Lieutenant Ferris.

"As for our mission, the details have yet to be finalized, but I have been told that we will be stationed in the former DMZ and further co-ordinate with the Federation's developmental efforts in the region. Lieutenant Ferris will schedule another meeting of the senior staff when we have more to discuss. In the meantime, I will leave you to getting settled on _Surprise_ and getting yourself acquainted with your teams.

"With the exception of Lieutenants Ferris and de Vries, you are dismissed."

The _Surprise_ senior staff stood up and headed off to the door, the more social officers, like Smyne, taking the time to introduce himself to the new arrivals. Lieutenant Ferris, horrified at being asked to stay, sat meekly in her chair. The counsellor returned to his seat only after saying hello to Vokoun, Valru and Luciani. The trio did not speak until the others had left the room.

"What can we do for you, Captain?" de Vries asked as he clasped his hands and rested them on the table. The young man was neither handsome nor repulsive, a true representative of an average human male strictly in terms of aesthetics. He was below average in height, but not weight, and there was no illusion that he might be a fighter. He was an academic and had the same pot-belly that Pavlik grew in his first couple of years out of the academy that were spent primarily in a lab.

"Kristen, while there may have been a benefit to inviting Mr. de Vries to the first senior staff meeting, I wanted to make sure that you know that he will not be a regular attendant, as he is _not_ a member of the senior staff," the captain said, looking kindly at Kristen first, then levelling a more guarded look at de Vries.

"Understood," Kristen replied quietly. Felix nodded at her and dismissed her.

"That comment was meant for me wasn't it?" de Vries said dryly once only the two remained. Pavlik had rolled his eyes before he could check his annoyance.

_Of course it was meant for you,_ Pavlik silently fumed. _I think a Starfleet lieutenant can keep track of who is on the senior staff._

"How could you tell?" Pavlik asked as soon as he could do so neutrally.

"Well, sir, I _have_ familiarized myself with your file," de Vries replied conversationally. When Pavlik didn't reply, de Vries shifted in his seat. "I have been under the impression that many ships, like the _Enterprise_, include a ship's counsellor as part of her senior staff."

"_Some_ ships include their counsellor in senior staff meetings," Pavlik corrected. "And while have I have the utmost respect for your academic studies – I myself spent the first few years of my Starfleet career earning advanced degrees from the Daystrom Institute – when choosing my senior staff I was obliged to note that those ship's counsellors that have that special status also have special talents – such as telepathy – or extensive experience aboard a starship or, most commonly, both. And that's not to mention that they are either certified for bridge duty or very close to it."

"That seems to be a rather convenient argument," der Vries noted, crossing his arms. "I thought it was strange to be picked over more seasoned applicants for this position. Now I see: you picked a young, inexperienced counsellor so that you could put him in a corner, out of your way."

Pavlik narrowed his eyes. "If you've familiarized yourself with my file you would have known that I have been as cooperative as possible with my counsellors and I have completed every session."

"In the manner of someone who sees it as an inconvenience, you have."

"I also have the resource of a first officer that is entirely candid with me and a doctor that is unable to lie," Pavlik continued, his face growing darker and more menacing. "They _both_ agreed with my assessment that you, virtually the _only_ counsellor available for this assignment, were not suited for a senior role aboard _Surprise_ and that we would re-evaluate our position once you had spent the years required to gain experience as both a counsellor _and_ an officer that might warrant a place amongst the senior staff.

"If this situation is unacceptable to you, you can put in your request for immediate transfer and in lieu of you we can use the EMH Mark III as our primary ship's counsellor. _Do I make myself clear?_"

"Crystal, sir."

"Then you are dismissed."

Pavlik glowered at der Vries as the young lieutenant stomped out of the room with absolutely no regard for naval etiquette. The captain was unsure what exactly his counsellor was hoping to accomplish, and that upset him. He took a moment to compose himself before he took his place on the bridge.

"What was _that_ about?" Smyne asked him as he took the center chair. Pavlik grunted.

"A famous Earth philosopher once said, 'Being frustrated is disagreeable,'" Pavlik said. He paused as much to settle into the comfortable center seat of the _Surprise_ as for effect.

"'But the real disasters in life begin when you get what you want.'"


End file.
